A Different Kind of Prophecy
by NotForAllAges
Summary: The Pevensies weren't the only prophecy in Narnia. When they return to find their land taken over by Telmarines, who will stand by their side?


**So this story is slightly AU. This chapter is pretty serious but it'll get better in the upcoming ones :) Kk u can go read now!**

**Disclaimer-I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. But god help them if I did... ;)**

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For the 365th night in a row I dreamt of them. The kings and queens of Narnia. Peter the Magnificent, Susan the Gentle, Edmund the Just, and Lucy the Valiant. Every night for a year their story took hold of my dreams and warped me to a magical world where anything was possible.

It's always the same. I stand by, unnoticed by all, watching the exact same events unfold. Yet I always expect something different to happen. Like for Lucy to choose a different room to hide in while playing hide-and-seek with her siblings, and not be transported to Narnia. Or when she gets there (she always does) for Mr. Tumnus to turn her in to the White Witch instead of showing her the way out. But he always does. And her family never believes her when she tries to explain it. But Edmund always follows her during her 2nd trip. And Jadis always pulls him into her evil plan.

I can never bring myself to hate him for it though. In a way I can relate to him. He felt alone. Lost. Angry. And while I don't condone his choices, I can understand why he did it. He didn't want to hurt his family, he just wanted to feel loved by someone. He finds it in the end, though, in his family. My favorite moment is always when Peter yanks him in for a hug after his wound is healed. And then they all join in. I always want to look away, it seems like such a personal moment, but I can't. It won't let me.

No, nothing changes. Peter always leads the army down to face off with his enemy. Aslan always dies on the stone table and comes back to just in time to kill the White Witch. And I always have to see the tortured expression on Edmund's face as he's stabbed. Always have to see the light fading out of his brown eyes as he realizes that this is it. But Lucy always gets there in time and he's always okay. And they're always celebrated as saviors and crowned royalty. And I always wake up after watching Aslan walking down the beach, leaving them to fend for themselves with a promise to return someday. And I always long for the next night so I can experience it all over again. And it always comes.

Matt says it's just my subconscious making up an imaginary world so I don't feel so alone. I don't have any other friends to ask so I just take his word for it. But part of me wishes it were real. That Narnia and the Pevensies truly existed and weren't just figments of my imagination. Part of me needs it to be real, to have something to believe in.

I felt it this morning when I jolted awake reaching for the lion, always at 6:00 a.m. That feeling that something big was about to happen. Usually I just feel sadness that the dream has ended. I could feel them. Their presence wasn't fading like usual, it lingered.

I laid in bed for a moment, listening to the different sounds of sleep around me. Some were snoring, some rolling over, some talking in their sleep. The orphanage didn't provide very big living quarters for it's inhabitants. The girls bedroom consisted of 6 bunk beds cramped in enough space to fit about 3, with a small bathroom just outside the room that we shared with the boys. Not that they liked to share.

I was always the first one up, even before the workers. Each morning I stole an apple from the kitchen, went out to the small, worn down shed to grab my guitar that I was forced to hide there so my peers wouldn't vandalize it, and walked the 2 blocks to my buddy Matt's magazine stand before school. I sang a few songs to attract customers and in return I got unlimited access to his magazines and a free candy bar. Matt was nice enough to share them with me even if I didn't play, but I enjoyed it. I felt a sense of purpose when I sang and, according to most, had a pretty damn good voice. I never made it to Matt's today, though. As I stepped into the shed and reached for the string to switch on the light as to not trip over every piece of clutter, I felt it again. Even stronger now. I could feel them there with me. There was a light at the end of the room and I inched my way towards it. It grew with every step. A cool breeze drifted towards me and could swear I smelled Narnia. This is it, I thought. This has gotta be it. And with that thought I stepped into the light, fully trusting whatever forces may be responsible.


End file.
